


Far From The Mind

by Challenger2011



Series: Far From [1]
Category: Project Blue Book (TV)
Genre: Allen's Gay Crisis, Hurt Michael, I Always Damage My Favorites, M/M, repost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 19:28:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18037457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Challenger2011/pseuds/Challenger2011
Summary: West Virginia wasn't the only place where the towns react with violence. Fight or Flight.





	Far From The Mind

They’d been busy the last few weeks. Non-stop case after case, they followed the rash of hysteria across the central states. It was certainly taking its toll on Allen, but he could see the toll it was taking on Quinn as well. The young man was twitchy when people stood behind him. Allen had walked up behind him the night before at the hotel, sock feet quiet on the carpet and touched his left shoulder. The Captain had startled so bad he’d knocked Allen backwards onto the bed.

They’d laughed it off at the time, the Captain laughing at himself as he helped Allen up, but Allen knew what he’d just missed. Quinn’s fist had come around so fast he’d nearly hadn’t seen it since it became the hand offered to him to pull him upright. 

He was lucky Quinn punched with the right hand.

The Captain had been to war, had fought people trying to kill him for years, in both a plane and on the ground. Allen knew the pilot had been shot down once, he’d seen the file. 4 days behind enemy lines, stealth and evade to make it back to friendly lines. Quinn had killed there, with his bare hands. A sentry that had found the young pilot crouching in the dense underbrush next to a road. Quinn had beaten the man to death to survive, to keep him from alerting the SS troop that had marched past only minutes before. 

The longer they were out on these cases, the more Allen realized that the war wasn’t so long ago.

Not for Quinn. 

This was the last case though, only a couple days before they got to go home. Allen to his family, and Quinn to - whatever the pilot had at home. They could relax.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Allen knew he’d asked for too much. He’d jinxed it.

They were confronted by an angry mob as they left the witness’s home. It was dark, why was it always dark. The Captain was in front of Allen again, centering the mob’s attention on him. Allen had never really paid attention, but he realized now that Quinn did it often. Put himself in front of Allen, shielding him with his own body. Protecting him. 

Allen wasn’t used to that. He did it himself for his family, it was automatic. The pilot was 15 years younger than Allen though, and about the same size. He wasn’t sure why the Captain did it. Allen knew he was short, 5’8” and a bit, the pilot’s file saying he was 5’9”. It had never bothered him, but he’d never felt it more acutely than right now.

This town grew giants. 

The men surrounding them were all over 6 feet tall, some well over and built big. Allen felt small next to them. This was dangerous. Quinn clearly agreed, his hands were open, out from his sides to show he wasn’t armed, moving slowly backwards to maintain distance from the group that was backing them into their own car. Boxing them in. His head was rotating slowly, eyeing the men surrounding them uneasily.

“Hey now guys. You don’t want to be doing this.” His voice was calm.

Telling them their credentials didn’t seem to work. The crowd didn’t believe them. Allen was starting to think he should bring ID with him on these jobs. He understood why Quinn didn’t wear the uniform everywhere, it gathered too much attention. Might have helped them here though with visual proof of their claims.

One of the men that had come around the side made a move for Allen, grabbing for his arm. Quinn got there first.

A vicious snarl, wordless and deep came from Quinn as the pilot body checked the man away and backed into Allen, right arm sweeping back to crowd Allen into the side of the car. Allen could see the side of Quinn’s face now, teeth bared like an animal as he hunched his shoulders, crouching slightly as he came up onto the balls of his feet. Fluffing like an animal did to make itself seem larger.

“BACK OFF!”

Allen had heard that voice before, on their second case The Flatwoods Monster, when the Captain had disarmed Donnie and turned his own rifle on him. 

Allen saw the moment the mob decided to attack, deciding the Captain was a threat. Quinn took the first first to the right side of his face, head snapping around, blood flying from his mouth to streak the car window. He was already moving though. His own right fist coming out from behind him, with the full weight of his body behind it, to get the man attacking dead center in his face. The man dropped like a rock, unconscious.

The fight devolved from there into a flurry of flying fists and bats while Allen stood frozen by the car. The mob all trying to reach Quinn at once. He was so outnumbered it was almost funny. Lucky for Quinn though, he didn’t fight by conventional rules. The war had beaten that out of him.

Unlucky for the mob though. They tried not to hit their own people. 

Quinn hit everything. He fought like a rabid dog, desperate, kicking, punching and biting if he had to against his larger opponents. The blows the man took from all sides should have taken him down by now, but the Captain was laying out men left and right, a trail of groaning bodies as the fight moved away from the car into the field.

Allen thought it was over when one of the men got Quinn into a reverse standing chokehold and lifted the Captain clear off the ground by his throat. A full body buck from Quinn must have loosened the hold just enough and Quinn sunk his teeth deep into the man’s arm. The man howling, threw the pilot to the ground. The fight ended then as Quinn found a handgun on the ground, it having fallen into the grass earlier in the fight when he kicked it out of the hand holding it.

The pilot staggered to his feet with a roar, arm raised, gun pointed towards the sky. The sound of the shot splintered the night and froze everyone into stillness. 

Coat whipping his legs in the wind, the pilot stood before the man who had tried to choke him where he was cradling his bloody arm a few feet away, gun aimed at his heart. Hand unnaturally steady. Quinn looked wild, his eyes large in the darkness, mouth dripping with red, teeth white in the moonlight as he panted heavily, trying to get his breath back. Allen was afraid he was going to pull the trigger again.

“STOP!”

Quinn flinched.

“Captain STOP!”

Quinn’s arm fell. The mob mentality was broken. Reality had set in to the crowd again.

Allen picked his way slowly through the grass towards the pilot, making sure to keep his hands visible and in Quinn’s line of sight. The Captain had taken so many blows to the head Allen was amazed he was still standing, much less as straight as he was. Military training forcing him upright. The men around him didn’t move towards Allen at all, recognizing the inherent danger they were all in from the Military Officer at the center if they were to attempt to touch Allen.

Reaching Quinn’s side, Allen took a closer look at him. He wasn’t so sure Quinn was really fully conscious. One of his eyes was swelling shut already from the repeated hits, the other glared out like a baleful coal, trying to focus on Allen though he could see from this close that the pupil was blown, the eye tracking off to the right and back repeatedly. The Captain was in bad shape, breath wheezing in and out shallowly, one arm up tight to his chest. Probably broken ribs from the sound.

Gently, slowly Allen reached out to the other man, lightly grasping his arm. Sliding his hand down the limb, feeling the fine tremors, Allen grasped the gun from loosening fingers. Safely taking it into his own hand.

“We’re leaving now.” He address the still silent crowd. “Don’t try to stop us.”

Grasping Quinn's upper arm, the Captain gasping in pain at the touch, he guided the wounded man slowly towards their car. No one moved as he got them back to the car, guiding Quinn around the other side to get him into the passenger side. Effectively shielding themselves with the vehicles bulk just in case. Still moving slowly, but faster without the Captain, Allen went back to the drivers side, sliding in and starting the car with the keys that were still in the ignition.

Once safely away, Allen turned to the pilot suffering in the seat beside him. He wanted to get mad at the man for getting caught in the fight but one look told him better. The Captain was slipping down the seat towards Allen, head lolling loosely against the back of the seat. He was unconscious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Allen had never driven so fast to a hospital in his life. Pulling up outside, he’d yelled for help. Nurses with a gurney racing outside to meet him. Quinn had been carefully removed from the car, Allen breathlessly explaining he suspected broken ribs, and rushed inside.

Allen had made the call to the Generals to report what had happened, that the hospital wouldn’t tell him about Quinn or let Allen see him. The General had tersely thanked Allen and hung up, but minutes later a nurse had come for Allen, saying he had been authorized to see the pilot.

Now, sitting at Quinn’s bedside reading the chart that had been hooked to the bottom of the bed, Allen was thankful for the General’s interference.

Quinn was stable but in bad shape. A severe concussion was causing his eye to drift like Allen had seen in the field. 4 broken ribs and left arm refractured, so it wasn’t just the ribs he was protecting having it curled up before. The listing of A STAB WOUND in his abdomen requiring 14 stitches, though missing any organs, made Allen's hands shake. 

Quinn had almost died for him tonight. He had no illusions of that. The Captain had directed the fight away from the car, away from Allen while getting the shit beat out of himself to protect the Doctor. Allen was grateful, he was no good in a fight, preferring to fight with words, but he was going to have some strong words with the young pilot when he woke up again.

This wouldn’t happen again. Either Quinn wore the damn uniform everywhere, or he got a pistol of his own. And Allen was going to get a new ID card, he’d hang it from his neck if he had to.

Sighing, Allen rose and stepped out of the room, closing the door gently. He nodded to the MP Corporal standing outside the door, and headed to the men’s room. He needed a minute.

Down the hall he could see other uniformed military personnel guarding the hallway entrances. The Generals had done more than get Allen let in to see Quinn, he’d sent a detachment down to deal with the situation. Many of the other men who had been in the mob had shown up at the hospital as well and were now under armed military guard. The remorse was palpable as Allen walked across the opening to the waiting room that had been repurposed to hold the men.

Allen met the eyes of the man that had attempted to choke Quinn out, the one that nearly ended up with a hole blown through his chest. The man believed them now. The town was crawling with military. They were all facing hefty sentences for attacking a decorated war hero, still currently serving.

Allen and Quinn had solved the mystery here before the fight, it was a simple case, but the town had already been in reaction mode and hadn’t calmed down enough to let the explanation sink in before the mob scene had happened.

The team here now was holding a town meeting right this moment, putting an end to the mob justice. Allen wished they had got here earlier.

Stepping into the bathroom Allen leaned against the sink staring at himself in the mirror. He looked like a trainwreck. His white shirt was soaked with dried blood from his shoulder, where Quinn’s head had ended up as he slid down on the drive to the hospital, to his belt. Blood on his face, transferred from the blood on his hands, was flaking in his hairline, some of his curls stiff with it.

Allen was in the middle of rinsing his hair and face in the sink when it all hit him. The first sob to burst out of him surprised him. The shaking had started by the second, and by the third he was sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, head on his knees, the water still running in the sink by his head. Hot tears burned down his face, a feeling like grief crushing his chest making it hard to breath. He wasn’t sure what was going on. He was alive, Quinn was alive. Beaten, but the pilot was going to be ok. 

But it could have so easily been different.

That mob would have killed them if it could. All their fear redirected from their intended target to the 2 men confronting them. That man would have choked Quinn to death in front of Allen and there would have been nothing he could do. Quinn could have died from any of the blows he took, the ones to the head if they’d hit his temple, or hell, the STAB WOUND in his guts. Allen hadn’t even known it was there. He could have died in the car on the drive over, bleeding out onto the seat. The Doctor had supposed his half collapsed position in the car had put pressure on it. Allen only remembered his head on Allen’s shoulder, raspy breathing in his ear, comforting as it meant Michael was still alive.

Michael.

Allen took a shuddering breath and tried to pull himself together. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been on the floor, but his hair had stopped dripping down his neck and the spray on his face from the sink was cold. He pushed himself up stiffly, legs cramping from the chill of the tiled floor.

Methodically rinsing his face again, this time of tears, Allen regarded himself again. Still looked like shit.

Turning off the water he exited the bathroom heading back towards Quinn’s room. He couldn’t leave until he saw the pilot awake again. It was too easy to lose someone to an injury you didn’t know was there and Allen needed to hear his breathing right now. He walked faster.

He needed to know Michael was ok.

The MP outside the room opened the door with a sympathetic look as he saw him coming, the expression on Allen’s face making the MP keep his news to himself.

Inside the room Allen’s breath caught, Michael’s eyes were open, blinking slowly. One still swollen almost closed, but the other focused on Allen as he entered. The pupil was still huge, and it ticked a bit to the right still, but it was open and aware. A slow smile was spreading across the Captain's face as he registered who was intruding. Allen didn’t even think.

He crossed the room so fast he didn’t even register moving, hands seizing the collar of Michael’s hospital gown and leaning down to mash his lips into Michael’s so roughly he heard Michael suck in a breath loudly through his nose in pain. But he didn’t resist. Allen backed off long enough to say. “Don't - you - do - that - to - me - again.” punctuating every space with another kiss before pressing his forehead hard to the other man’s. He was shaking again. Tears dripping from his cheeks onto Michael’s.

Michael just stared up at him wordlessly. 

Neither noticed the MP outside sidling to the left to cover the window into the room with his body.

“I’m not sorry, Doc.” 

Allen threw himself back with a choked laugh and dropped into his chair.

“Of course you’re not!”

Michael’s left hand moved slowly in his direction, heavy from the cast covering the new break and Allen reached out to tangle their fingers together.

“Doc.” Michael shook their fingers lightly to make Allen look up at him.

“I will do it as many time as I have to to make sure it’s never you in this bed. Never you.”

Allen squeezed his hand. Michael relaxed back into his pillows, eyes still unevenly focused on his face.

He didn’t know what this meant for them now. He was married, he’d THOUGHT Michael was straight, but they had just kissed and Allen had never felt like this before. His heart was so heavy and so light at the same time, he was sure his heartbeat was going crazy. But Michael hadn’t rejected him. Had basically declared his inability to stop protecting Allen. And Allen...Allen wanted this. He wanted Michael in any capacity he could have him, even if nothing changed after the sun rose.

He squeezed Michael’s fingers again, and watched as his eyes drifted shut. Allen would be here when he woke.


End file.
